Buttercup: The Perfect Little Girl
by Benyakuya
Summary: Buttercup never seems to be the favorite does she? I'm trying to change that :) Read and find out how.
1. Dreams and Reflections

Disclaimer: None of the characters are owned by me.

Buttercup: The Perfect Little Girl

CHAPTER 1: Dreams and Reflections

"And we'll call you Buttercup, because it also starts with a B". Exclaimed an excited Professor Utonium at his newborn daughters. Not that everyone would notice at the time but to Buttercup this was her earliest memory and it was not a sweet one like her sisters.

She could remember it so clearly as if it were yesterday, with excited eyes she looked towards her father, hoping for a name that would define her in the same way he had named her sisters. Blossom was named for her openness toward him as she had spoken first, like a flower blossoming. Bubbles was named for her bubbly nature for she had burst out in a fit of giggly laughter upon hearing Blossom's name. But Buttercup, what was that supposed to mean? Named after a flower? Named after her sisters? She felt as if she was last, had no name worthy of her nature. 

"Because it also starts with a B" Echoed again in her mind as she crossed her arms grumpily.

"Because it also starts with a B" Suddenly, Blossom, Bubbles and the Professor were laughing at her.

"Because it also starts with a B" The whole room was in a whirl, she could hear everyone's voices laughing at her.

"Because it also starts with a B" There was the Mayor, the Narrator, Mojo, HIM, Talking Dog, Miss Bellum, Miss Keane and her class, the Professors and her sisters. Everyone in Townsville was laughing at her.

"No, no" Screamed Buttercup as she instinctively squeezed her eyes shut and tried to hit the taunting phantoms. The floor disappeared as she started falling into the blackness, the voices following her, taunting her as her world went black.

"No." Whispered Buttercup softly as she sat up in bed. "The same nightmare for the 3rd time this week." She whispered as she hugged herself softly and lay herself down genteelly so as not to wake her sleeping sisters. "Why do I have to have such a stupid name anyway?" She wondered as the hall light faintly illuminated her watery green eyes. Eventually, she would sleep. But not before asking herself the same question over and over again.

Though it was late, Professor Utonium had little reason to sleep. Bills, bills, bills. The insurers had told him they would sooner give Jackie Chan a policy than insure anything in his home. Lucky for him he had his patents and inventions, otherwise… Well he shuddered to think otherwise, he got up from his study and walked down the hallway to check on his angels. The prides of his life, how fortunate a man he must be to blessed with them he thought. When he reached the doorway he inspected his sleeping daughters, Blossom so smart and intelligent, Bubbles so cute and lovable and Buttercup so… he hesitated to think of a word, tenacious and determined. How long had it been since he had a talk with Buttercup he wondered to himself, he cherished the moments when Bubbles and Blossom came to him seeking advice and comfort. For all the superpowers and physical abilities they had, they were still after all 5-year old girls who still needed a parent to be there for them. Buttercup however seemed to take the weight of the world upon her small self, she never really did open up to him and kept to herself a lot of the time, ever since she had been born rarely had he a good word to say to her, it was always "Buttercup take a bath" or "Stop scaring your sisters" and "No more monkey business".

Instead of frowning he smiled, oddly enough. "She's Perfect." He thought to himself as he walk back downstairs to the living room. Sitting down on his easy chair he opened the evening edition of the Townsville Gazette, something he rarely had the time to do in the day light because of the busy lives he and the girls led. On the front page was the headline "Buttercup Bashes and Bruises Bad Bird." Below that was a picture of his middle daughter decking what looked like a 20-storey tall version of Tweety Bird from the cartoons.

This drew his attention away from the newspaper and back to Buttercup. At her age, he had been just like her, a total Brat with a capital "B". He remembered the time he had pulled a young Miss Keane's hair in kinder garden, he chuckled and wondered if she ever forgave him for that. He wasn't the class bully because to be a bully you had to have a gang of friends. No, he had been a prankster, never really listened to the teacher, always up to something naughty. Even after the girls had saved his young self from Mojo it had taken sometime for him to reform. It was only in high school did his interest in science peak and it would be a long time before Buttercup reached that stage. He knew exactly how she felt, even though an only child his father never really had time for him, like himself his father was a researcher but not in the field of science but consumer goods, working for one of the big Japanese conglomerates. He forgot which one. Once he had been old enough, he had left home and only wrote back occasionally to his mother. He hoped Buttercup wouldn't do the same someday; it would just break his heart. Despite appearances he loved her as much as her sisters and hoped she knew that. 

"Still, maybe I should take the opportunity to get to know her better" He thought to himself. "I just have to remember what it was like when I was young."

END CHAPTER 1


	2. A Father’s Dilemma

CHAPTER 2: A Father's Dilemma 

Blossom woke to the sound of the alarm clock blaring out the PowerPuff theme song. Sleepily she dragged herself out of bed and walked slowly to the bathroom. Though externally a morning mess Blossom was mentally wide awake and in her mind churned the knowledge of knowing what Buttercup's dream had been. Whether she liked it or not, sharing dreams was a power of theirs and it had helped like that time with the Sandman. Over time, she had learned to hide her presence so that the dreamer could not see her or realize she was there, she wondered if Bubbles and Buttercup knew how to do so as well but noted that they hadn't appeared in her dreams recently. "Poor girl, I hope she knows neither the professor or us would ever laugh at her that way." Blossom thought as she stared at her own face in the mirror "Sharing a nightmare always takes a toll on my complexion." she thought as she splashed water over herself, though in truth her skin was a radiant as ever.

"Morning Blossom" mumbled Bubbles as she slowly entered the bathroom.

 "morningpfh" muttered Blossom back with her mouth full of toothpaste.

"Was it a dream or were we really laughing at Buttercup Blossom?" Asked Bubbles as she waited by the doorframe for her sister to finish using the sink.

"I saw it too, Buttercup was having that dream again." For the 3rd time this week too she silently reminded herself. Bubbles didn't reply this time and instead took up her own toothbrush and began brushing her teeth. There was a silent understanding in the room under the sound of the running water, the two puffs knew that when Buttercup did wake up she was going to be in the foulest of moods so they had better enjoy the silence while it last. Blossom sighed. "I'll get breakfast ready."

By the time Buttercup did wake up the smell of freshly made pancakes wafted through the home. She sat in bed letting her nose and taste buds do the job of waking her up. "I had that dream again, but I can't let it get to me. I've got to focus on whatever, monsters, school, how irritating Bubbles is, how much of a goody two shoes smarty pants Blossom is and whatever else there is out there like those yummy smelling pancakes." She used her pillow to block out the rays from the sun as they cast their beams onto her bed and face. "Its so bright, I wish those girls would let me put up some curtains. Maybe if I ask the Professor, but then again he always listens to them anyway so what's the use? Bubbles would say the room was too dark anyway just because she's afraid of the dark. And Blossom would probably say something about sunlight generating Vitamin D in the body just to impress him." She groaned and rolled of the sheets, breakfast was awaiting and she would destroy anything and everything that got in the way of what she wanted. Why you might ask? Because to her the whole world at that point was against her and she was going to fight back or her name wasn't Buttercup. "I wish it wasn't" was her final thought as she pulled on her green dress and started going downstairs.

"Morning Buttercup" Bubbles cheerful voice was directed at her sister who had appeared in the chair next to her at the table.

"Morning" Came the grumpy reply from the green one. "Where's the professor?" she asked after surveying her surroundings.

"He's still in bed cause he slept late last night." Blossom replied as she dunked two pancakes onto Buttercup plate.

Buttercup stared at her plate for a moment. "Only two? I want three Blossom, you know I eat a lot." She said with a confident smile and tone.

Blossom was irritated and it showed but she held herself back, she knew that underneath Buttercup's arrogant exterior was a little girl crying for attention and she was not going to be the one to feed that desire. She glanced over at Bubbles who had been quietly sipping her orange juice since greeting Buttercup earlier. "Want some more too Bubbles?" Bubbles just shook her head. She was deep in thought, very unlike Bubbles indeed. Blossom poured more of the ready mix onto the non-stick pan while thinking about how bad her luck was, her turn to make breakfast and Buttercup needed to be pampered.

Bubbles looked on a Buttercup stuffed her face a worried look on her innocent face. Buttercup looked up from her gorging. "What's the matter Bubbles?" She asked with her mouth stuffed.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about something." Still staring into space. Buttercup didn't continue the conversation she just continued eating, only stopping briefly to nod in appreciation when Blossom dumped another 2 pancakes on her plate.

The Professor knew something was wrong as he dragged himself down the stairs, it was too quiet, there was no gigging, no laughter not even the usual morning argument. He tried to lift the mood anyway. "Mourning Girls" he greeted in a lively tone.

"Mourning Professor." Came three replies. Two sounded like groans and the other sounded like normal. He wondered what was bugging Blossom and Bubbles.

"Is something the matter?" He asked

"Buttercup had this dream and…" Started Bubbles but she stopped when Buttercup started staring daggers at her.

"And it was about me winning the World Boxing Championships" Buttercup continued after putting on a fake smile. "She knows? And Blossom too? That's why they're trying to stay out of my way." She thought at the same time. She had to be quick though and make a cover story otherwise the professor might want to talk to her and comfort like he did with Blossom and Bubbles. That would not be in line with her character she thought. "I'm Buttercup and I don't need comforting because I'm the tough one and everyone expects me to be that way even the professor."

The professor knew better, she probably had a nightmare and wouldn't admit it. If it were Bubbles or Blossom he might sit her on his lap and comfort her, but this was Buttercup. How could he relate? Get her to open up? 

"But…" Bubbles tried to continue.

"That's nice honey." The professor quickly replied not wanting to spark the short temper Buttercup used as a defensive mechanism. "Care to tell us more about it?"

"Well I was in the ring and…" 

Blossom pretended to listen but tuned it out the words. "Silly Puff, doesn't she know how much we love her…" She thought. "I'm going to get ready for school guys" She announced and whisked off to grab her ready packed bag.

"Me too" Said Bubbles as she rushed off leaving Buttercup to continue her tall tale to the professor.

The professor nodded in approval at Buttercup's story, it was good as usual and came out in a confident tone. But he knew when she was lying.

"I'd better join them, I haven't packed yet" She said at last.

Mentally, Buttercup hoped that the Professor would buy the story. In the meantime, she filled her mind with the methods of revenge she would take on Bubbles, hide her favorite toys and coloring books…nope did that last week, itching powder in her underwear…too cruel she'd save that for Blossom. She looked at her school bag, books, stationary boring stuff, she wished they taught self-defense at their level, but that would have to wait until she was older, like many other things.

The rest of the morning was rather normal with the usual hustle. The girls rushed by and kissed the professor goodbye before flying off to school. "Like any other day, except those times when the hotline rang in the morning." The professor reflected. He looked around the now quiet house and then at his watch. It was nine o'clock and the one person he needed to call would have been awake for three hours now. Slowly he walked over the phone and hesitantly dialed an old familiar number. He brought the receiver to his ear and spoke.

"Hello Mother, its me"

END CHAPTER 2


	3. Mother

CHAPTER 3: 

In the home Pokey Oaks Estates there lived an old lady, she had blonde hair and old blue eyes but an absolutely vibrant face. The younger staff at the home called her Mrs. U, she didn't use her first name much. She always had a story to tell and spent her days painting in the garden under the trees of the large estate style retirement home. Mrs. Utonium led a happy and quiet life, ever since her husband had passed a few years back she led it day by day immersing herself in her hobbies. 

She looked at the painting of the square headed man in front of her, the oil paints merged into an abstract of a mans figure but showed no obvious facial features. "I think I shall call this 'Family'." She paused thinking of the men in her life, she had son but he like his father lived in his own little world chousing to focus on work rather than the realities of life. "It was her fate perhaps" She sighed. In her younger days she was a dreamer and an artist and Dr Utonium was a researcher she had met while on campus, opposites attracted and she ended up marrying a man her complete opposite, which was lucky for her since she couldn't imagine what being married to someone with her characteristics might be like. She pitied her son sometimes; he had to grow up polarized between being like her or like his father a confusion which had manifested it as naughtiness in his younger days. 

"How many times did she have to go down to school because he had put glue in a girls hair again?" She asked herself. Still she always reminded herself that boy would be boys and that would always be the memory of him that she had. That bratty little boy, she fancied him to grow up as a rebel and join the heavy metal band or something else rebellious, funny thing he turned out a boring person like his father it was very much unlike him, but he never told her what. In high school, she would worry that her son might get into drugs or anti-war protests, instead he brought back straight A's and she had to save her speeches. Not that she would have complained, she would have packed his bag if he wanted to march on Washington.

"Mrs. U, phone call for you."

"Thank you Richard, it must be Greenpeace again. Honestly, give them a hundred thousand and they keep calling you nonstop." She nodded at her personal assistant. Too bad her son had left when he was so young, his father had left a good amount of inheritance for him. Still, Saving the Whales sounded much better than Saving the Harvard Graduate didn't it. As she picked up cordless phone she thought, a professor now isn't he?

"Hello Mother, its me." It was her son she smiled. Thankfully she had kept their old house number since she moved.

"Why Professor, how nice of you to call." She teased. Pretending to be grumpy but letting her laughter be heard.

"Oh Mother still the old jokester aren't you. How are things at the home? Not torturing the staff with your antics are you?"

"I've won worse resident of the month a few times, but old man Jones has one up on me cause he's the grumpy old sort. I just compete with people born to be old. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" She snickered. She knew her language would make the professor uncomfortable just like it did his father. For an old lady she surely was childish, she knew that. But keeping the soul young was the first step to keeping the mind and body youthful.

"Well" He began in his analytical tone. "I was just wondering, what was I like when I was younger?"

There was hope for him yet she thought. "You were a typical little boy weren't you, unless you count that time I caught you playing with dolls. Why do you ask? Not thinking of blaming me for some childhood mental scarring are you?" She teased again. She just loved toying with analytical minds.

"No, just going through the old photo album and…" He lied, but it was a little white one. His mother didn't know about the girls, and this wasn't the time to tell her.

"Found some mug shots in there eh proffy? You were a little rat when you were young, I remember than time you glued that Keane girl's hair and the time you were caught with a girl in the bathroom. Quite a little ladies man you were when you were five." She snickered. Those were the days.

The professor actually had a notepad in his hands and was jotting down notes about his youth as if it were a collage lecture. Such was his habit; it didn't occur to him that these were his actions not a history lesson. 

Mrs. Utonium held the phone between her shoulder and her cheek; she motioned to Richard to prepare another easel and canvas. "All this reminiscing is giving me inspiration." She thought. As she started with the stencil, she continued reminding the professor of his younger days the way only a mother can.

The professor's hand felt like he had been writing for ages. Thankfully, he was used to making long and detailed notes from his years in collage. "Thank you again Mother. I'll send flowers over." He knew his gestures were superficial, but he didn't have time to visit. Neither did he want her visiting him, he wasn't ready to face her again, even after so many years.

"Goodbye Son" Mrs. Utonium put down the receiver. She was of course still painting; her wrist movements showing power and practice just like the professor's.

"Richard, do a search on his number on the Internet, I think its time to pay my son a visit don't you." She knew something was wrong if her son suddenly called up out of the blue. And what better way to find out then to show up.

END CHAPTER 3


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